We gon' handle this like grown men, you won't win
You don't even feel comfortable in your own skin
I rap my ass off, I'm fightin' the champ with the glass jaw
At the Garden or Nassau

See me, couple hood niggaz behind stars
I heard you put a couple good niggaz bars, preme
I might never sell that much
But you can bet your last 2 quarters, I never tell that much

Picture 'Kiss not come out swingin'
It's like going to see 50 at a show and he don't come out singin'
Yeah, you got a felony, but you ain't a predicate
Never the King of New York, you live in Connecticut

You don't be in the hood, you be in the woods
Fuckin' wit' me, is where you really gon' be for good
I hold the 4-5 myself, and hop out the range on 1-4-5 myself
This is a true fact

Since, when has it become cool to get shot and not shoot back
Track masters shelfed you, brave hearts helped you
Then everybody felt you, now I gotta melt you
And don't try to pull rank on 'Kiss

'Cause the niggaz I'ma send to do it ain't gon' miss
Be layed up stiff, I spit straight up 'piph
I did real songs with 'Big, no made up shits
And I don't got a problem with clout

You ain't get shot again yet
So what's your second album about? Nothin'
Your raps are pre school
You made a lot of money, now be cool

'Fore I swell up your lips like seafood
Can I get a mic check? You don't stand a chance
To dance with me dog, ya steps ain't right yet
Block is just fine, homie, the D's straight

Most likely your new cd is a weed plate
Bunch of love songs, hundred percent pure garbage
Just somethin' to break up buds on
You should just sell clothes and sneakers

'Cause 'outta your whole camp your flow's the weakest
I'm in the town where the young boys is clappin'
You runnin' around with the Lieutenant and Captain
It'll take a lifetime to see 'Kiss, you had to get shot 9 times to be rich